But first you need the prequel— about my antique mirror fetish… So you can understand how on top of the Victorian wardrobe, this year is ushering in an entirely new and stratospherically-superior level of craigslist treasures.

When we moved here, I somehow started collecting antique mirrors.

REALLY GIANT, gold Victorian mirrors… the bigger, the fancier, the more ornate, the better.

I don’t know how it happened—at first I assumed it was luck… But eventually, I realized that the universe just loves me more than it loves other people.

So far I have four: two pier mirrors, and two mantel mirrors.

Paul thinks that is enough. I think it is not.

He does not understand that when you COLLECT something, you can KEEP getting it. That’s how collections work—you ADD to them.

Paul says I cannot collect something that requires a UHaul and four strong men.

The mantel mirror in the foyer was the first… it’s the only one that still has the original gilding. The others have all been painted various shades of radiator paint.

I saw it on craigslist shortly after we moved in… It would be impossible for me to overstate either my enthusiasm, OR the way I had to set myself on fire to convince Paul that I would not take no for an answer.

It was February, we’d been here five months… and my proposition that we go out in the bitter cold to transport a six-foot by six-foot mirror to the garage… where it would sit for YEARS until we finished the foyer… did not appeal to Paul.

You can see how that worked out for him.

Five months here, had been long enough for both of us to fully grasp what we’d signed up for.

For me, it was the physical recognition—the actual scope of the project… having my enthusiasm for the fancy front-door hinges, replaced by the reality of slogging through plaster and lath.

Also, the very disappointing realization that magic would not be involved.

Five months was also long enough to discover that snow, at a certain angle, drifted INTO the house… And that if you stood in the stairwell of the third-floor landing, you could feel the heat RUSHING by you… like a windtunnel. Hurrying out the roof, the windows, the walls, the holes… like the entire house was just a colander masquerading as livable space.

Paul’s solution to the snow, and the leaks, and the futile task of essentially heating the outdoors… was to work on it all the time.

ALL the time.

If he could have done it twenty-four hours a day, he would have.

If he could have given up eating and sleeping, he would have gladly traded it for more time to gut, and demolish, and move ladders, and insulate, and make lists, and draw diagrams.

Surprisingly, this did not make him cranky. What DID make him cranky was being interrupted. In any way.

In ANY way.

Having his shrine-to-progress disrupted is the single greatest thing that makes him insane.

And I was coming in, and tromping around, and picking up all the deities… Saying things like— let’s rearrange them! This one looks lonely! Let’s get them all together and have a tea-party!

Maybe we should do it this way!
Maybe we should do it that way!
Why don’t we do this?
Why don’t we do that?
Maybe we should move the stairwell?
Do we actually need this wall?

This house was the very first construction project I had ever experienced.
I had no idea of timeframes, or schedules.
Or compromise.

Or that your house’s plumbing runs IN THE WALLS.

Which is totally disgusting and I have NO IDEA why the people at that brainstorming session were like—OK! Solved! We’ll go with THAT idea.

I guess theoretically, this is obvious. But to me, I had never, ever, ever, given it any thought. Until we opened up a wall, and I was like—what’s this?
And Paul said— it’s the sewage pipe.

And I was like—OH MY GOD.
Who would do such a thing?
We have to move.

This mirror illustrated every single way that me and Paul’s approach to this house was diametrically opposite.

Paul bought the house to fix it.

I bought the house to hang shiny stuff on the walls… To collect and store unwieldy, billboard-sized, useless-objects in the garage; until an undetermined time in the future, when we might have time and space to put them somewhere.

Regardless of whether it snowed INSIDE.
Regardless of whether the project list was forty-thousand pages long.
Regardless of whether some of our windows were manufactured out of cardboard and saranwrap.

Those details are nothing in the face of destiny.

Why Paul wanted to ruin my destiny, I cannot say.
I CAN say that it made me mad.
Mad. Mad. Mad.

Not mad he couldn’t see the necessity… but that he would not TAKE MY WORD FOR IT.

If I tell you: this is my destiny.
Full stop.

And you say: oh well.
Where am I supposed to go from there?

Especially since it was $150.
ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY DOLLARS.
That’s practically free.

They are essentially GIVING AWAY my destiny on a street corner, and you’re going to let some homeless dude put it in his shopping cart and wheel it away.

I don’t think so.

Have you forgotten? That day you put your tuxedo on? And I wore a white dress? And you promised to LOVE AND CHERISH me?

90 Comments

You are hilarious. I spent like… oh….two hours reading though your blog as my hubby stared at me while I giggled to myself. I decided I had to bookmark it and follow your journey!! We are currently renting a large home that was built in 1920, and I love it. We have the option to buy it if we decide (we are renting from a friend) and we are currently thinking seriously about buying and remodeling – so this was the perfect blog to stumble upon. We are both IN LOVE with the home’s charm, GIANT front porch, original woodwork, and potential. I know it will be a lot of work, some of the “projects” the previous homeowner did (before my friends bought it) are MIND BLOWINGLY TERRIBLE, but it will be worth it in the end.
I have to ask – what paint color did you use in your dining room?! I have been searching for the perfect cream/off white to use in my home, and I LOVE the one you used!
Thank you for sharing your adventures!
Jessica

I’m going through a similar experience now- except my house is little little and my father is the voice of practicality. He keeps saying things like- no you should not have ten different paint colors in the kitchen. But wwwwwhhhhhyyyyy? That’s the only way to attract unicorns!

[…] week, someone on my Newsfeed posted a link to this blog and, in particular, this article about an amazing mirror this woman found on Craigslist. She must live in some Fairy Tale land where all dreams and wishes […]

My sister Judy inherited from our mother a beautiful VERY antique gold-leafed French pier mirror with marble base. She has considered SELLING it to someone, but not GIVING it to me, her very own envious sister! Therefore, I think you might want to consider making the SHORT trip from Philly to Van Buren AR, to BUY this gorgeous thing (it has an eagle on top!) Now you will probably fall madly in love with the mirror, but dont let that get in the way of my plan. After Paul loads it on the truck (he will need a helper or two) you could decide that it just doesn’t suit you after all! So now the plan calls for you and Paul to make the REALLY short drive to Tulsa OK to GIVE said mirror to me, just because I so richly deserve it! After all, I did GIVE our mother’s huge set of Lenox china to Judy (because I already had a similar set. While you’re here, just don’t look at my mother’s other beautiful gold mirror, or my grandmother’s lovely ornate mirror. They are definitely not for SALE!

I totally understand what you mean about the ick factor of raw sewage running through your walls. How do you feel about dead bugs in your walls? Cause they’re there. Dead bugs. They’re in your walls right now.
We had an infestation of carpenter ants and the bug guy came and drilled holes into the baseboards and sprayed some stuff in the holes and said “ok, done!” and now I have to live with the fact that there’s an entire colony of dead carpenter ants slowly mummifying right behind the thin walls of the baseboard next to my feet. It’s horrible to think about.
Finally. “And that if you stood in the stairwell of the third-floor landing, you could feel the heat RUSHING by you… like a windtunnel. Hurrying out the roof, the windows, the walls, the holes… like the entire house was just a colander masquerading as livable space” is the best piece of writing you have done to date. That’s brilliantly evocative right there, that is.

you are soooooooooooooo funny! and soooooooooooooooooooooooo much like me and my friends! I love to read your stuff! You hit the nail on the head every time! when will you publish your book? When will the movie be out? What about the 2015 Tour?
Having said alll that, the only “con” i would offer is: taking the Lord’s name in vain is not good. Every blessing comes from Him, including the mirrors! taking the Lord’s name in vain is not a good idea.
otherwise—-Will there be a 10k marathon named VEB Fan Club Marathon?????

Hello VEB, I don`t usually reply to blogs, I just look and read, but I must say that, number one, I LOVE THE MIRROR`S! I have been looking for a full size one myself, number two,this particular post is a HOOT! I have bought several older homes that needed renovated and so I can RELATE to your dilemma, but… you GO GIRL, because it looks like you are FULFILLING YOUR DESTINY!! 😉

It took this page to make me see my own gilt antique mirror obsession but I have only 1 pier mirror with lady’s head and gold dust, one small and one huge over mantel mirror, I’m behind you. Well, I do have a Venetian mirror.

[…] Decorating our Victorian home via Craigslist! – Victoria, I love the mirror(s)! I can see them working beautifully in your house. In fact that is exactly what an 1890 Victorian deserves and needs. […]